Premature Spring
by Neptunes Tears
Summary: When a rose is tricked by the hope and warmth of a premature spring. (A&U) Even though it is Akio who makes life end, it ends to thereby make it grow anew. He is as much the end as the beginning...(possible spoiler warning)


Authors Notes:  
  
I actually got inspiration for this story by something my mother noticed in the yard and some feelings I pieced together and put symbolism and metaphors with. It had been 60 or 50 degrees for a week or so and these flowering bushes in my yard thought spring had come and began to bloom... but then it got down to 30, 20 degrees and they began to die. It sparked in me a type of inspiration. I haven't written in awhile so I'm glad ^^ I hope I can pull this off as much as I intend. Hope everyone likes it. It's kinda like a rewrite of the episode where Utena delivers the roses.. I kinda wanted to reread that episode on www.duelists.tj for inspiration but the site is like majorly down. .;  
  
Please enjoy ^^ the first chapter is like a briefing for the rest of the story. It's symbolic! And It feels so good to write and have foreshadowing and purpose in my writing again ^^ this first bit is talking about the characters and life of Ohtori and Akio and all the others in symbolic terms necessary for the rest of the story! Don't loose faith I'll talk in English again soon!  
  
Oh and this site I found however symbolic and technical is such a good site for further understanding of the 'revolution' and what's really the deal with Akio and his goal for his 'pawns'. It really opens your eyes...  
  
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Even though it is Akio who makes life end, it ends to thereby make it grow anew. He is as much the end as the beginning...  
  
"Premature Spring" By: NeptunesTears  
  
Chapter one: The budding rose  
  
In a tangle of brown leaves and faded grass, just along an intricately twisted brass fence which beamed of antiquity, there was a stretch of plant life as high as the wall. The plant itself was large and branched off all along the length of the metal enclosure. The fence stood in front of a student dorm, and was along the edge of the sidewalk. Stiff in its sudden and repeated pattern of its harsh sleep through winter, one rose on this plant life had stood out among the brown decay. It was one glorious bloom that had shot off reaching out toward the curve of the walkway which led out to the street; as if pulling away and growing astray from the other dead and wilted blooms long since touched with the healthy green this one seemed to have; as if it grew on its own, without the rest of the plant. During its sudden and secretive growth overnight it had reached for the sun with open and ready petals; the frost of before dripping off its leaves like cold tears.  
  
But now the momentarily naive red rose beside itself and transfixed by the seasonally habitual warmth had been caught in the intentions of winter; caught in this now fleeting premature spring. And another period of sleep was next, a stretching seemingly forever period of waiting and numb unfeeling. This rose had crossed unspoken boundaries, it being a summer plant, it belonged and needed to only grow in summer, or if the season so decided, die in the sweltering heat and lack of rain. How naughty of the rose to duck then, so rebelliously out of the gardeners harsh, quick, and skilled hands and snips. There was no release from this reoccurring slow death, no comfort to this forever end. It was the decided cruelty of winter, the punishment for stepping into nature's pathway; trying to rewrite the habitually of tradition and time. This overall and already planned design of winter always was stronger and controlled how the season should be; how long it should last.  
  
But something totally unexpected, something which causes miracles; that which doesn't have to be internal and yet can give faith and radiance, caused the premature spring. That single red rose had been tricked by the illusion of the weather, furnished and provoked by that rebellious gentle breath of spring now subdued and drug back into winter. That curious little rose was now blackening, its once glorious bloom, red and alive from the sun, was drooping. Succumbing to its own heavy weight; much like a lover's laden heart.  
  
It only took the brush past of a hip as a proud and slightly nervous young adult whisked past carrying in her arms a wrapped package. Her long pink tresses blew back behind her determined and yet gentle face from the now harsh and concurring winter wind. The petals she brushed even ever so gently, let out a scented soft sigh almost a thank you, and letting go of their base, fell heavily onto the ground and cement; one catching on the sole of her shoe as she walked a step onto the path. No other wind but this strong demanding one, could stir these petals; which very much resembled a corpse almost. It was like a remaining borderline of a fallen structure, a presence of something, a forgotten feeling. Like parchment written long ago, and words mistaken or recycled.  
  
Utena Tenjou turned a bit and looked back surprised, poised on her heal of her foot in mid walk. 'A rose bloom in winter?' The intrigued girl blinked and glanced up catching the fall of a shear drape at the dorms bedroom window and something distant, the soft fading scent of that now pathetic flower made her lips curl into a smile as she remembered briefly.  
  
The cool wind made itself known a moment later; goose bumps formed on her skin even though inside she burned like fire. Her thoughts became fuzzy, and her insides jittery with thought at the task at hand. And so the form behind the curtain became simply as just; and the dead rose, simply a plant. And Utena waved her hand goodbye, continuing on her way; that single thin and filmy petal continuing to cling on and go with her, not wanting to let go. And as the girl behind the curtain watched with habitually sad yet expecting eyes, she clutched her once slightly defrosted, now refrozen heart; her soul, if she had a soul stretched with Utena as she disappeared down the sidewalk. Her heart beat, the one supposedly of flesh that beat for show and illusion beat with every light footstep Utena took.  
  
Anthy was alone now, and she stepped back into the center of the room which was scattered with packaging paper and string, all which was prepared for this event. ChuChu sat on the small table chewing curiously on the packaging the new item her brother had asked for, came in, which was originally a gift to Anthy. A gift that new breath of spring had told her she could treat herself to. She picked ChuChu up and gave him a cookie to eat instead from her uniform pocket as she sighed sitting back on Utena's unmade bed; giving in to the already known and forceful fleeting on her part, to want to snuggle in the scented warm sheets. She ravished in the last hint of body heat, and curled up with ChuChu, as it began to snow.  
  
The thoughts that consumed her next were current memories and she looked back their time together just a few days ago; during the premature warmth. She allowed a little of the happiness she felt then to surround her once again, however artificial it was now; and Anthy dreamed.  
  
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^-^ Please stay tuned for:  
  
Chapter two: The blooming Rose.. Coming soon!  
  
It is more then a flash back but a sweet memory. ^.~ 


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